Random Shorts
by HappyTheDragon18
Summary: These are just a bunch of random stories that I'll try to upload whenever I can! I have a book that gives you a sentence and you have to create a story out of what you're given. I have a bunch in there right now, but I'll update with many more soon! (Rated T just to be safe, there could be subjects that are a little deep at points)
1. Chapter 1

**The words in bold will be what the book gave me to work with, and everything else is what I created from it.**

 **All these stories will be quite random, as there are a ton of completely sporadic sentences that I have to make into stories, but I hope you enjoy!**

 **At first, we thought the black liquid was oil, that we'd struck it rich and that we'd be able to retire and live in leisure. We actually started writing down all the ways we'd spend the money. Our first choice was** saving it; us four kids needed an education, and it costs too much to pay out of pocket for. We had come up with two other ways to spend our riches, the second being a nicer house. For as long as I could remember, our family had lived in a run-down house that was so old that the wallpaper had actually started to peel. We had never gotten an indoor toilet- we could never save _enough_ , it seemed- so we all had to do our business in a man-made outhouse. We definitely needed to upgrade; in this day and age it was unlikely to find people living as we were. It was 1986, after all.

The little ones had put together a show to tell us how they would spend their money in their respective ways. They thought that the money would be split between us kids, meaning that we could do whatever we wanted with it. I suppose they were a little too young to understand that our family was a lot poorer than most folks in Boston and that we needed the money for other things.

At the time, it had filled us with an unimaginable amount of hope. I don't think that many can really grasp what I'm trying to say: basically, we _really needed that money._ We didn't have a car- or a carraige, even- because neither of our parents could keep a steady job for more than a week. Two weeks, at most. Maybe you get it, and maybe you don't, but I'm sure you can imagine our feelings when we were told that what we had struck was not oil, but a spout of tar. At the most, it would sell for $20 total. You can _imagine,_ but we had to live through it.

Everyone in the family reacted differently to the news. My mother fell into a depression, claiming that without that money, we were as good as gone and that we had nothing to live for anymore. I found out firsthand that she had started smoking again to dull the pain of the loss, and it made me angry sometimes. After all, she had specifically given up the habit because she had to set an example for me. Now we had the little ones, and this would be all they saw of her until we could figure out how to handle our financials correctly.

The rest of us sort of moped, you could say, until the following spring. A family from the South came up to Boston to see the neighbourhood sights, I suppose, and when they came around to our house they asked if it was up for sale. We looked at them as if they were crazy- heck, they _were_ crazy, wanting to buy a house as old as this- but we didn't say no. They told us they would pay it off, but we said that whatever they had was fine. After all, we weren't ones to be begging for money.

So they gave us $200,000 for it. _$200,000._ It was surreal. Our mom stopped by to see what all the fuss was about in our yard, but when she saw the cash she stopped talking. We were laughing, crying, shouting to the wind. _We could get by with this._ We could buy another house, one that wasn't so old, and we could all live semi-normal lives.

A hope long forgotten had been ignited once again, and it shone in our eyes.

 **A/N: I have a Tumblr account as well, where I made a post announcing that this fic would be posted here. If you could, please check it out! I go under the same name, happythedragon18, so it shouldn't be hard to find. Thanks, and I hope you enjoyed and continue to read!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry it's been such a long time since I've updated! Between school and friend drama, I've forgotten about my promise to upload whenever. I'll try to be a bit more frequent from now on, and thanks for being patient!**

 **Perhaps it was dream, she thought. Perhaps if she pinched herself, she would wake up. But she didn't want to wake up. She wanted to stay in this dream world where** she didn't have to worry about trivial things like school or finding a balance between herself and friends. Trigonometry and English 2 left her head spinning like a rollercoaster on overdrive. Having to discipline some responsibility into her was one thing, but it was getting a little ridiculous at this point.

The dream was a sort of blank slate, she had been given the privilege of making up her story as she progressed. She began to create things of such magnitude, objects that hadn't been invented and never would be.

She stayed in that state for an indefinte amount of time, and was extremely disappointed when she awoke to the absence of her box fan in the background. She heaved a fairly large sigh. It had been doing this for a while, cutting off at random points while she was trying to sleep. She had always been one of those people that needed noise to fall into slumber. She thought it weird that people slept without it; the silence was deafening. She had complained to her parents about it, but they refused to get a new one. They shut her down with "If it still works for any amount of time, then we don't need to spend extra money on a new one."

Needless to say, she thought some unpleasant things about them after that. Sleeping was necessary, for crying out loud! She didn't want to continue going through the same cycle every night. Fall asleep, dream for a bit, wake up again because the fan shut off, and then get up to turn it on. It was infuriating every time.

This night, however, she had finally had enough. It was getting to the point where it was hard to fall asleep a second time after getting out of bed to turn the godforsaken fan back on. She was going to her parent's room to demand a new fan. They had ignored this problem for long enough; they needed to see her side of the story for once.

She sat up with new determination resonating within her, and began to walk.


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm gonna upload another story in one day, because why not, right? I feel like viewers might be wanting another chapter pretty soon, but then again, maybe not. Who knows! Anyway, please enjoy!**

 **I've lived in this town my whole life, and most of the time that's fine by me. But in late fall when the sky fills with birds migrating south for the winter, traveling thousands of miles, I get homesick for places I've never been. Places like** England, where the sun claims to never set because of all the bustling activity. I've always thought that if I put my main focus on going anywhere I wanted- and saved enough money, of course- then I could travel the world. Seemed easy enough in theory. What a wonderful dream that I can't make a reality.

I don't think it's fair, but I might know where the problem started. I think it began with a person in the same shoes as you or I, but so much longer before our time. They had grown bored doing the things that society expected of them. They longed for change, a new experience. Today, our world is based off of the principle that if you want to achieve anything, you have to do a bit of work for it. This would be fine by me if it wasn't so hard to find a job that was enjoyable and not something that was just to help you get by. After all, its better to work for the rest of your life at a job you enjoy and not at one you loathe.

This ancient human, whomever he might've been, wanted to do something that caught his interest. Writing, for example, seemed like sublime choice, so he went with that. He could lost in the pages of his stories for hours on end, and nobody would bother him. So he began to do just that- all the while ignoring every other important thing he had to do. He couldn't keep doing this forever, he knew, but he refused to go back to being unhappy. This caused him to go extremely poor, and he had to sell _a ton_ of stuff to just keep his house.

I think that after this happened his community made decisions to ensure that people wouldn't go through the same things he had. Laws were constructed so that if you had no workplace, you would either have to pay or be paid to work somewhere else.

What I'm trying to get at here is that in this day and age, society makes it difficult to enjoy leisurely activities every so often, because you're stuck worrying about whether you have enough money to get through the month or not. If you don't have a sizeable amount of cash, then life won't be very easy. It's funny: I've always wanted so badly to travel across the world. As a child, maps would never cease to amaze me- I was quite literally holding the world in the palms of my hands.

Perhaps one day I can change the way this world runs so that others won't have to think as deeply about these things anymore. It's good to have structure in life, but too much of it can be a little dangerous. I want to live a little- fulfill all my childhood dreams. Until then, however, I will be severely disappointed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Back at it again with another chapter! It's been a bit of a long time since my last update, and so thank you to everyone who has been reading this and been patient. I'll stop rambling and cut to the chapter now..**

 **"How did you know?" I asked, not sure I wanted the answer. I thought I had been careful. I thought she** was left completely in the dark of what I had been doing. I didn't stop to think that she could fully comprehend the actuality of the situation. It was getting pretty bad, and I didn't want her involved in it. But I guess it couldn't be helped, because here I am, being confronted.

"You seemed a little off all week." She said to me in an almost mocking tone. "I ignored it for a while- after all, everyone's got their fair share of bad days- but you behaviour din't stop being off for a while. I figured that something _had_ to be up at that point."

"I guess I could've done a better job of hiding it." I admitted, albeit wistfully. "Do you think I maybe should've waited until we were older and more capable?"

"I don't think that really matters; you can't turn back on your decision now." She paused. "Okay, so maybe you can, but I don't think you should. This is a pretty serious situation. I'll admit, you _totally_ messed up, but if you need any help with this I hope you know who to call."

I was stunned. How could she be so accepting? She was willing to call me out on my mistakes, but she still cared enough to give an offer of help. It was both heartwarming and confusing. I thought she would be more angry than this, but I guess people can really surprise you sometimes. Maybe this wouldn't be too bad of a journey after all, now that I had someone to help me throughout it.

"Thanks."

I didn't need an oral response to hear the _you're welcome._


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello once again! Remember in the last chapter when I said I'd try to upload more frequently since I've been slipping on updates? Yeah, uh, funny story. I, uh, may have forgotten again, heh. Sorry, sorry, I know some people may be wanting to kill me because of that (man that's weird. I don't really know if enough people actually like my stories enough to** ** _kill_** **me over not updating, but you know. Maybe someone does, heck, I don't know).**

 **So yeah, school's been throwing me off. I'd like to say that that's the only reason I haven't updated in a while, but it's really partially because I just forget that I still have an account on here and that people expect me to update regularly, so. I'll try to find a certain schedule- because without one I'll forget to upload- so I won't be as slack. Just keep in mind that if I don't update for a while again, that it's not cause I don't care, it's because I'm just a generally forgetful person. Thank you, and I hope you enjoy!**

 **The darkness was thick and suffocating, like a heavy blanket had been thrown on the world. He had to get over the wall, had to get across the border before** they caught up to him and open-fired. He was a rebel, standing against the government's idea of reformation since it had first been proposed, and many wanted him dead for it.

He had grown quite used to being politically and socially shunned by now, but it was hard at first. He hadn't understood why the way he thought was generally frowned upon, and that made him upset. If he didn't know what he was doing wrong, how was he supposed to own up to his "mistakes?" He never got it, until years later when the way he thought began to put him in real danger. When he finally gathered the courage to tell his family about his views, they acted as if they accepted and understood where he was coming from. As if they sympathized with him. And when they first told him so, he drank up their reassuring words without a second thought. He had believed them, solely because they were his family. Of _course_ he would trust and listen to them, because if he couldn't, then what good was he?

It sickened him to think about them now, though.

As he grew up and matured, he realized that it was all just one big, ugly lie. They had never _truly_ understood why he thought the way he did, and his parents had even later told him that they didn't. They just wanted him to be normal, not the social outcast that would eventually be chased around by the government themselves.

He could understand why they resented him. For a really long time, he had thought exactly the way they had without any question. But over time, he dwelled on it more and more, and it just didn't make any sense to him. There were too many holes, too many other, more efficient ways to solve the problem. Once he thought the way he did, he just couldn't bring himself to go back to the old way. If it wasn't logical or proven, he couldn't believe it.

Running away from the officers, he thought that maybe he could be given a second chance if he went back home and lied. If he told them that, no, he didn't think that way anymore. That it was just a phase. That it was gone now, they had no reason to worry about him. But he couldn't. His family might've been ignorant, but they weren't stupid. They would figure it out over time that he was lying to them. He loved that they understood him so well, but it was also fairly inconvenient for him.

He ran faster, but he knew he wouldn't be able to keep this up forever. Eventually, he would tire, and they would catch the rebel that stood out against their cause from the very beginning. He hated that he was so weak right now, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to continue running away from the government forever. Eventually, even if it wasn't now, they would get what they wanted.

He slumped against a wall and waited. They would probably be here any second, and he wouldn't have the energy to stop them. He whispered a silent apology to his family, even though they probably wouldn't miss _him,_ the abnormal son. Still, he was deeply filled with regret. He wished he could go back to his mother, tell her he appreciated her. Tell his father that he loved him and respected him, even if he could be harsh at times. Tell his sister that he loved her, and wanted to chase her in the backyard just _one more time._

He loved them all, even if they didn't love him.

A single tear escaped from his eye, and before he knew it, he was full-blown sobbing. All he wanted was to go home, back to where he had a family that loved him. But he couldn't anymore, he was a goner. The officers were most likely just around the corner.

He cried until he didn't have any tears left.

The last thing he saw was an ominous figure looming above him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hi again! I promised I would upload a bit sooner than usual, and so here I am! I know it was probably still a sort-of long hiatus, and so I'm sorry for that. This story actuallu doesn't come out of the previously mentioned book, it came from a prompt online. Without further delay, I'll let you read! Thank you!**

Entering work is never that fun to start with, but on a weekend? Even worse. You're supposed to be relaxing at the pool or socializing with friends, but instead, you're trapped in a too-small cubicle with constant chatter buzzing in the background. Naturally, you're in a bad mood. After all, it comes in the job description.

But you weren't expecting this. You unceremoniously waltz in- as per usual- and look to see a small treat waiting for you at your normal desk. It seems like someone forgot to eat it or take it with them, and it looks fresh, so you decide to check to see if anyone will claim it. No one does, so you eat it. I mean, what's the harm, right? It didn't look _too_ old, and you think you deserve some self-indulgence, so why not? It immediately makes the day feel a lot more promising. A cookie is a pretty good way to start a day of working with hardly any breaks, after all.

A few weeks later, it continues, and you start to think that it's getting kind of unnecessary. Cookies are great and all, but to have someone purposefully give them to you without any introduction is sort of creepy. You don't think that the cookies are suddenly going to have something dangerous baked into them- you trust whomever is doing this- but you want a little bit of an explanation.

Another day passes, and you walk back into work once again. You take a quick glance towards your desk to see the familiar baked good, but you catch a glimpse of yellow. You're now _very_ intrigued, so you fully turn your head around to see a small sticky note with something written across it. You quickly shove the cookie into your mouth and read the note while chewing. It says:

 _Sorry. Bet you're wondering why there are always cookies, huh? I baked some for a friend of mine's birthday, and I had a ton left over, so I decided to give them to you. Hope you liked them!_

It wasn't signed, but it did have a phone number written at the bottom. It looked like it was signed very quickly- nervously, almost- and it fills you with a warm feeling. Maybe you'll try calling it after work, just to see who this mysterious baker was. Maybe you'll even bake some tonight and, depending on if you found out who it was, you could return the favour.


	7. Chapter 7

**Sup. Two chapters at the same time?- is what I bet you're wondering questioningly. Yes indeed, my friends. You see, once I start writing, I have a habit of not really wanting to stop. This story prompt was also taken off of the internet, not the book I always talk about. The last chapter was a bit short, I'll admit, so hopefully the length of this one makes up for it. Here you go, and I hope you enjoy!**

There are always going to be stereotypes, no matter what anyone else tries to say. It's depressing and all kinds of messed up, but that's just the way it is. There are ways of discriminating against not only humans, but animals too. Stories are written- mostly children's books- to describe what is good and what is bad. We teach these things to the next generation, hoping that they'll turn out better than the one before them.

For example: fantasies. They can be addicting- after all, they're a temporary escape from reality- and that's why so many of us can be found endlessly reading them. We want to read about worlds that are so much more adventurous than ours, and so we devour the stories as if they were a silver platter of food just waiting to be eaten.

Fantasies are great and all, but they have hidden messages written within their depths. Most kids that read them would gloss over it without a second thought, but some are smart enough to know a moral theme when they see one. A book about the life of dragons and how they [would] interact with one another would be fascinating. These types of stories exist, but they can all be compared.

You could see a two books that have dragons in them and see the same recurring theme in both of them: dragons are usually the enemy. They steal the princess, but not for very long, for her noble prince comes and saves her from the horrid beast. Those types of books just write off dragons as monsters without even knowing what else they can be. If dragons were to exist, they would have many other personality traits that would make them unique, just like humans.

So I've decided to write a fantasy of my own, where a dragon exists and is just simply misunderstood- like most of the books we see today do.

A long time ago, you see, a dragon lived by a neighbouring town. This town was relatively small, with about 3,000 people living in it. The dragon's home was by a creek, and it was even smaller. Well, small for a dragon, at least. The cave he lived in was so small that he didn't have very much room for food. Once he caught a meal, he would have to eat it on the spot so that it wouldn't take up much-needed space in his cave. It was cruel, but it was his way of living at this point.

The people in the town despised him. Whenever he would venture out of his cave- which wasn't very often, mind you- they would gather in the square and try to make him leave. Pitchforks and fire was usually involved in this struggle, and the dragon hated it. He knew that his appearance could scare people away- he wasn't exactly the most friendly looking- but they should know by now that he meant the townspeople no harm. If he truly wanted to kill any of them, he could've done it by now.

It got old pretty quickly, needless to say. All of those puny humans just kept persisting in their quest to get rid of him. And with every try they made they failed. He still lived near the same town, and the residents still hated him. This way of life was hard on him, though. He wanted to show them that not all dragons were princess-stealers who disregarded everyone they saw only to later come back and eat them. He ate animals, sure, but he could never bring himself to consume a person.

This cycle continued until he was pushed to the breaking point. He was going on a simple hunt- nothing unusual there- when one of them decided to confront him in the forest. None of them had ever done something like this because the forest was _his_ territory. They had all either been too scared- which was most likely- or too smart to do that. When he was in the town, he allowed them to do what they wanted because the land was _theirs_ , but when one of them decided to wander too far off to where he lived? It was fair game.

He was curious to see what this human would do, though, so he backed down. For now.

The human started speaking. He wasn't that great with their language, but he could understand a few words. _Stop. Sorry. Don't hate. Wish they didn't._

He could only assume the best. Maybe he was an outcast too, and ventured here because he thought of dragons differently. Dragons had an unknown ability to share their thoughts, and so he did this with the stray human. It was all he could think of to get him to understand what he thought. Once he forged the connection, he poured all of his emotions out. His fear, his loneliness, his anger, everything. He hoped that the human could understand that he didn't want to hurt him, in fact, he wished to forge a bond of some degree.

After he had given the bond all he had, the human staggered backward. They immediately walked up to the dragon and tentatively put out their hand. He was motioning for the dragon to put his snout there: a symbol of trust. So he did. And he couldn't be any happier.

Someone understood him. He wouldn't be alone anymore. He poured new emotions through his new connection with the human. _Acceptance. Happiness. Gratitude._

This could be the start of something amazing.


	8. Chapter 8

**Here I am again! Thanks for being patient with me, and I hope you enjoy the next chapter!**

 **The music drifted out of the club like a vibrating pulse. I could feel it in my bones. The night was alive with possibilty. I could even imagine myself** going out onto the middle of the floor, all bold and such. Dancing by myself, with nothing but the blaring music and large crowd to keep me company. But I'm _extremely_ shy about what little talents I have, and going out in the middle of the floor with people in a circle around me, focused on my _every move_ was not an ideal prospect for an introvert like myself.

But it wasn't like I had many other options, seeing as the title of this event was a _dance._ I didn't feel like being known as one of the kids who sat and ate food the entire time, and being dubbed as a loser who just sits in the bleachers on their phone didn't exactly seem appealing, either. I was in 10th grade, dammit, and I couldn't be so quiet forever. I had someone out there that I wanted to impress, and for the first time, I actually _wanted_ someone to notice me.

It was a big step from wanting literally no one to _ever_ call me out in 6-8th grade, so I suppose the transition from middle to high school really _does_ have an effect on people. I never wanted to be one of the girls who had a new boyfriend almost every other week, I just wanted someone to like me for who I was. And it seemed that, in my "quest" to be loved by someone other than my family, I had developed a crush.

He was a decent guy. No one ever really put him on the spot, and he wasn't a jock- thank goodness. The sports kids in our school- or just in any school, really- are all jerks to the rest of us. They think that because they have a "big game" every week that they're allowed to slack off. And I absolutely _despise_ the people with that mentality.

No, this boy was much better- and sweeter- than that. A couple of times I've been lucky enough to spot him in the hallways helping other kids who either don't know where their next class is supposed to be, or kids who've just spilled their belongings all over the floor and feel ashamed. That wasn't the _only_ reason I fell for him, in case you were wondering. He also volunteers every other weekend, which I find to be pretty admirable. You don't really come across people who do that with such dedication anymore.

That's about it for the charity services, though, so. In case you thought he was gonna be, like, I don't know, the MOST PERFECT GUY EVER, he most definitely isn't. I haven't caught him being mean to anyone, but that doesn't mean he hasn't. And if he really, _truly_ hasn't been extremely rude to someone (at the least), then oh well. We all have our flaws, they just show in different ways.

Now for a physical description. Come on, I know you girls are curious. Heck, even you few guys reading this wanna know, but I can't be too sure of that. Back to it, though. He's about 5'9 from what I can estimate, and for comparison, I'm 5'6. So a good height difference, I'd say. He's got brown hair, but with the absolute _smallest_ flecks of auburn in it. You can only clearly see it in broad sunlight, so it isn't the most noticeable trait. He also has a wide span of freckles across his face, which I find _adorable._ If a 16 year old can even be considered adorable, anyways.

His eyes are the thing I love most, though. They're a lovely shade of blue, but they also have a greenish tint. I like brown eyes, don't get me wrong, but blue-ish green eyes have always been strangely hot to me.

Ack, I'm getting a bit off track here. The dance, right. I forgot to mention that this particular dance was a masquerade, so everyone was wearing masks. I had no way to approach my crush and be completely sure that it was him. So I settled for going out on the dance floor and swaying my hips to the beat. It wasn't too hard of a dance move- something I'm quite proud to say that I've almost perfected, in fact- so there was no way I could possibly embarass myself. It was foolproof.

I was so lost in the rythmn and my own thoughts that I didn't notice anyone sneak up behind me. That is, until my hands were grabbed by a relatively tall guy and I was led straight the the place I wanted to _avoid:_ the very center of the dancefloor. And to top it all off, I had no choice but to go along with him. If he really _was_ my crush, then I didn't want completely and utterly rejecting him to be our first official meeting.

A slow song came on, and he took my arm and draped it across his neck. He put his hand on my waist, and I was grateful that his hand didn't "accidentally" slip any further down. Seemed he was a gentleman, which I couldn't complain about in the slightest. He led us both in a waltz, and I reluctantly followed. I hadn't really ever waltzed before, but something about the way he led us made me feel as if I had been doing this for years, not minutes.

We stayed like that for what felt like forever- just lost in the dance- and I was surprised to say that I was enjoying myself. Normally, I would be a bit pissed that some random dude walked up to me and decided it was okay for him to just grab me and pull me away, but this guy wasn't crossing any of my boundaries.

The song ended abruptly, and before I knew what was going on a large shout of: "Take off the masks!" was heard. I slowly took off my mask, but when my dancing partner took his off I was completely and utterly starstruck. It- It was _him. Olly._ The guy I had fallen for hard, and didn't think had ever stopped to take a second look at me. I must've looked a bit _too_ surprised though, because he began talking nervously.

"I- uh, I mean, if you didn't want me to do that then that's okay. I just- ah, thought you'd be alright with it. Sorry if I crossed a line, I really didn't mean to-"

"NO!" I yelled, and looking back, it was a little too loud for the situation. "I mean, um, what I was gonna say is that I really liked it. So thanks, and it's alright, you didn't cross any lines."

I laughed a little at the end, and Olly joined in. Soon enough, we were full-on cackling. It was so ridiculous, how nervous we both were. You could practically cut the tension in the air with a knife.

"So, I suppose that means you liked it? Like, I was good?"

And I laughed again. Here he was, being nervous about the way he danced, when I thought that the way he moved was _stunning._

"Ohmygod, yes. Yes you were," I said, feeling braver than before. "You were amazing out there! Of course, I can hardly dance to save my life, so I don't have much skill in that area to compare it to."

He laughed at my comment. And I _revelled_ in being the cause of that sound. I wanted him to laugh like that more, because it was a wonderful sound- to me, at least.

"Alright, then. I'll disregard that last part and take your oh-so-wise words as a compliment. But I was wondering, would you want to do that again? Like, not _just_ dancing, but we could go see a movie- or hell, dance afterward, I don't know.."

"I think what you're trying to say is: "Gabby, would you maybe want to go out with me?" To which I would reply with: "Why yes, Olly, I would absolutely love that." And then we'd plan a date sometime soon and live happily ever after."

I was stepping up my flirting game. I don't think that I'd ever been this confident around anyone before, and I was proud of it. I genuinely liked this boy, and I wanted to go on lovely dates with him.

"Huh," he said. "Well that was easy. I've, uh, actually sort of liked you for a while, and I was afraid you wouldn't say yes and then I'd have to be all sad and alone-"

And I guess I got even more brave, because I decided to shut him up with a kiss.

It wasn't anything deep- and before you girls get curious, no, there was no tongue involved- just a peck. But it meant the _world_ to me, and I hoped with all I had that Olly felt the same way. I moved apart from him, and we shared another, less awkward laugh together. Now we knew that we both had the same sentiments for one another, and I was ecstatic.

We exchanged phone numbers to plan a date later on, shared a small, fast kiss again, and parted ways.

Maybe I wouldn't regret going to this dance, after all. I got a date out of it, and I couldn't be any happier.

 **A/N: So, this one obviously got a bit long, lol. Have you ever been writing and you just suddenly get all kinds of ideas and you can't stop? That's pretty much what happened here. But I think this is my favourite story that I've done so far, and I hope you feel the same way! I may make a sequel, where Olly and Gabby go on that lovely date. Review and tell me if you want that, because you can bet that I'll write it!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Thanks again for being patient with me, my fellow [avid] readers! This next chapter is one I'm a little less enthusiastic to post, because I just think there are some spots in it that I could touch up to make have a more interesting plotline. But I want to know how others feel about it, and so here I am. Hope you enjoy!**

The threads of fate. A concept that, if I'm being perfectly honest, I still don't completely understand. Even though I've lived my entire life thus far knowing which people will end up falling for whoever, I've never once stopped to look at mine. I know, at the least, that I have one, because everyone does. But I've never seen it, and I can't say that it doesn't bother me.

I've noticed that some people's threads take longer to show up than others, because it takes a lot of time for someone's subconscious to decide which person they'll end up loving. After all, there are seven billion people on this Earth to choose from. But mine, well, it hasn't once shown up. I've never seen a thread on my wrist, connecting me to someone I'll eventually love. It constantly plagues my mind.

When you look at love from an outsider's perspective, it's strange. You start to notice different quirks that that couple has. And coming from someone who, as far as I know, is the only person able to see the threads of fate, it's both interesting and sad. If someone doesn't end up with who their thread leads to, you can see the discontent written all over their faces. You can tell that they're missing something, and that they know it, but they don't know what it is that's eating up at them from the inside.

I wish, sometimes, that I could just tell people about their threads and who they lead to, but I know, somewhere deep down, that I can't. People wouldn't take me seriously, and I guess I can't blame them for that. The threads of fate are an incredibly confusing and crazy concept. But I hate it when I see someone on a date with the wrong person, and that I can't do anything about it. I'm not a matchmaker, but I think it would make me happy knowing that I helped someone find who their thread leads to.

But in order to help other people find their matches, I suppose I have to find mine first.

I had gotten used to seeing nothing on my wrist every day. I would wake up only to immediately check my wrist. Deep down, I knew that nothing would be there, but it couldn't hurt to have a little hope. Today, I thought, was going to be just like those other days. I would wake only to be disappointed.

That didn't happen, though.

I had woken up, checked my wrist like it was a daily routine, and. And, well, I actually saw something. I blinked, to check if I was still dreaming, because surely not. I had it mistaken for something else, probably. I rubbed at my eyes once more, but nothing. The small, faint trail was still on my wrist. Turns out, I hadn't been dreaming. This, this was real. I finally had a soulmate.

I started sobbing. For 15 years, I had grown up thinking that I would never find love, that no one out there would want me at this point. But the universe had just proven me wrong, and for once, I couldn't have been happier that it had.

I discovered something new that day, and hopefully, I would be able to meet the person on the end of my thread.


End file.
